So someone went to the Blogger happy hour last night and ended up needing a ride to work this morning. The Gergle wanted to be out the door by 9, and I found myself sitting in the living room tapping my feet at 8:55. When asked about this I said that in D.C. time, out the door by 9 means at least a quarter 'till.
I'm from here; she's all but from here. Is that all the difference it takes? Sure, we didn't have far to go, but don't you always schedule a half hour or so as contingency for all the manners of bullshit that this area can provide? Am I the only one who runs on D.C. time? I don't think I am, but I'd like an established, etched-in-stone definition of D.C. time.
My initial proposal is this: D.C. time is the allotment of 15-30 minutes (depending on time of day, could be stretched out to 45-60 if you're going far) on top of normal travel time to your destination. I think we can work together to make this happen.
Other stuff going on this week:
-Favorite thing about having a beard: I go to bed much later than my girlfriend, who is a legendary blanket and space hog. Usually, when I come to bed I have to work my way onto the actual bed, clawing for every inch of space until I'm on enough to sleep. Then the fight for cover begins. But now that I've got the beard out, I've discovered that I can just kind of nuzzle Gergle's arm with the ol' whiskers and she moves over without waking up. I may never shave.
-If you don't have Sirius, get it now. I'm a huge Stern fan, and the show's been great since he arrived.
-The band search is frustrating. Every angry kid grew up around here listening to Fugazi and Minor Threat and every other kid grew up wanting to be like those kids. I got no problem with that sound. There's a DC sound, and it's loud angry hardcore. Cool. That's fine. But I'm a feeling a little bit like a blue Peep in a package of yellow Peeps.
This is me ready to rock
This is every room I walk intoSo that could be going better.
-Final Four tomorrow. I'm not sure what to do. I'm thinking about going out of my way to be able to watch the game, meaning finding a buddy's house or even my mom's place; as the Gergle has managed to remind me every time I've turned a game on this month that she doesn't care about college basketball, which is her way of saying "Maryland's out of it therefore turn that off so I can watch What Not to Wear". I can't stand Maryland fans. I like the team fine, but you guys are ingrates. Anyway, I'm excited for the games and making an effort to be able to watch them, which ensures that either 1) Both games will suck big time, or 2) Something(s) will happen to keep me from watching the two best games ever. This is my life.
-Vote Sanjaya. Really. I'm not officially on the bandwagon yet, but this week might be the week.
Ok, I'm off. Late.
4 comments:
I think I have a rash on my arm.
Come on, I barely have to touch you. It's like a brushing motion. If anything's on your arm it's cause you're stressed. Don't blame the beard.
I was just teasing. I laughed rather loudly when I read that. Sneaky bastard!
My definition of DC Time is this: You always have to tell people you'll be there around such and such a time, because you never really know what's going to happen. That's why I'm always late. I spent the first 23 years of my life in towns where you could get from one end of town to the other in less than 20, regardless of the time of day. I don't know how to prepare for traffic snafus.
And the beard is sexy Bergle. Jo, your man is looking pretty darned good. I say this because it takes a special breed of guy to successfully pull off the beard look. Most guys can do a pretty convincing goatee, but the beard is different. Kudos. *snaps fingers in kitschy 60s poetry reading in a coffee house manner*
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